heromuxfandomcom-20200216-history
2013.07.02 - Huey's to You
It was an invitation.. a rather decorated invitation that harkens back to the High Middle Ages; complete with medieval-looking illumination and a neatly calligraphed request asking for the presence of one called 'Domino'. The signature upon the delicate looking parchment was 'Baron Kurt Wagner'. Time. Place. Formal attire suggested. A limosine would be arriving to pick her up... The herald bearing the missive was instructed to remain until answer was given. Upon the hour, upon the Blue Rover, under the stars of evening (Oh please, let the rain hold off!) paces a blue, fuzzy elf. He's dressed to the nines, sporting two tails this evening; one on his coat, and the other, well.. it has a mind of its own, as it sways, the tip twitching as glowing yellow eyes look back to the hatch that leads belowdecks. Lamps light the sides of the ship in blinks of red and green, as well as delicate white lights rising off the lines upon the spars. Dipping his hand in his pocket, Kurt fingers the object that he holds within as he paces, forgoing the teleporting for the time being. That'll come later, he's pretty sure.. and a grin grows in the thought, pointed canines showing. He'll need it to dodge. The three things which enter Domino's mind first are, why didn't Kurt just call her, how did he know where to find her at this exact moment, and at what point did he think that she had formal attire? Seriously, these two were going to have to have a talk later. The next question to follow is more to the tune of 'Am I honestly considering this?' Formal attire is just so ..weird. It's also next to impossible to conceal weapons with. Kurt should know this much, and yet he's asking this of her. The messenger gets to wait outside for a while before receiving any response. In the end all he receives is a curt "Fine" before the door closes in his face once more. Formal attire should be left to formal people, of which this woman is most definitely not. Adding further insult? A limo! She can't even drive herself now! "God, I feel like a trophy wife," she mutters aloud. When the limo pulls up to the docks it should come as no surprise to anyone that knows this woman when she steps out bedecked in dark purple sunglasses and full black leather. Boots, gloves, short dress, and an inner thigh holster for the .44 Derringer. Because it's Domino, damnit. Kurt Wagner is blessed with the ability to see in the dark.. and in the dim light, as the limosine pulls up wharfside, there can be discerned (if one is looking for it) glowing yellow lights on the deck of the Blue Rover. Only, they aren't lights.. Watching now as Domino emerges from the limosine, that smile grows, if it was the least bit possible, and he turns about to check to make sure the wine is chilled, the glasses are chilled before- *bamf* Okay, Kurt simply can't help himself. He can't. Appearing beside the limosine now, standing as the driver opens the door. And there.. Kurt takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders, and fangs are decidedly showing. His tail flits from side to side in the absolute.. excitement, and he offers a rather.. European bow, his tail tucking down. "You look lovely, liebling.." Even if she looks singularly unhappy. Well.. unhappy might be too.. weak a word? Offering his hand, Kurt waits, his brows rising. Of course they'll take the bamf-express back up! "And you look like you're enjoying yourself way too much," Domino replies in a 'less happy with the situation than with seeing you' sort of way. As with most things in her life, it was only by sheer luck that she still had this old getup (and that it hadn't been torn apart in a previous firefight.) The offered hand is taken, though she accepts it with an ultimatum. "You've got some serious explaining to do, Fuzzball." She doesn't enjoy being taken out of her element. This is definitely out there. "By the way, I think your driver doesn't like me." She may have been a slightly less than graceful passenger during the ride. Someone had to pay, and Kurt wasn't within range at the time! "So what's this all about that you couldn't grab the phone and give me a call like everyone else does in this century? I swear to God if you try to take me to the opera..." Kurt is positively quivering. It's the little things; he shows his affection in the little things here and there. Just the bits of 'thinking about you' gestures during the course of the day, and it could be in the form of a box of donuts. Coffee appearing on the counter in the morning. A box of 9mm. Gas in a tank. Any, and all have happened and will continue to do so. "It is true, liebling.." *bamf* They land upon the upper deck, as its bedecked in lights, the blinking white lights showing off the lines of the masts in the evening's light. "It will all become so very evident soon, I promise." The smile simply can't be wiped from his face, and those yellow eyes seem to glow more brightly. Lifting the bottle of wine, and two glasses (he can hold the two with his three fingers without the benefit of his tail!), he pours into the glasses and hands one over, and sets the almost finished bottle back into its ice bucket. Holding up the wine so he can look into it for a second, he brings it back down, and for the first time, looks as if he's a little nervous. To take care of those jitters, his free hand drops back into his pocket for a second, and taking a deep breath, he raises his glass. His tail sways gently, though that tip betrays his excitement.. his nervousness. "I couldn't call you for something this.. important, liebling. It had to be right." "To this evening." Not really inspiring confidence, here... This time Dom manages to keep the thought to herself, though when the wine is brought out she folds her arms together. "Would be nice to have some sort of idea of what we're celebrating." Not that she's about to turn down a free drink. After coming all the way out here, kitted out as she is for the evening, she's not leaving empty handed. Then things change. The nervousness. The three-fingered hand hiding within a pocket. Oh..oh GOD, no. Don't be a proposal, -do not- be a proposal... Now she's nervous! It's the kind of moment where one bottle of wine and two shots of two hundred and forty grain hollowpoint just don't seem like enough. "Kurt," she says in a slow, even, and carefully paced tone, "you need to tell me what this is all about." She needs to know whether he's going to go swimming tonight because she punches him off the deck or not. It's all there, isn't it? The signs? The drink.. the bracing drink. The night air. The formal request.. on parchment. Embossed. Illuminated like a medieval scroll. The use of an honourific, even if it's not deserved.. Baron Wagner? Kurt's caught, and for a long moment, he stands.. and his smile slips a little. It's caught, however, and it finds renewal after he takes a sip of wine. Though now, he's got a lot of tension in those shoulders. "This.. this is meant to be an evening you won't wish to forget, liebling," he begins again.. and after the first sip, he takes another swallow of the drink before he pulls his hand out.. nothing is there in it. For the time being. "I've made dinner below decks, though I'd like to cast off und put her on autopilot before we eat?" Oh, you little bastard. Give me -something- to work with here, would you? "There's no danger of me forgetting it any time soon thus far," Domino promises with a note of warning upon her voice. He's stalling. He's enjoying your discomfort. It's probably something simple. Maybe he finally got some revenge on good ol' mommy dearest. She's still torn. Should she continue to play along for this 'perfect' evening to be remembered as intended, or does she go for the throat and demand some answers up front? Having dinner is pretty low on her list of things to do. Drinking, it would seem, has taken a much higher priority. Where once she had a full glass, now she has an empty one. "You have ten minutes." And that's being generous. Kurt can see it, can hear it.. hell, he can feel it just coming off of her in waves. And, in a way, he's delighting in it, and in another, he's a little concerned that perhaps he's going a little far. That little voice that declares that perhaps things are a little too far is getting drowned out in a fine white wine. (Must be having chicken or fish this evening!) When she speaks, then, it serves to actually relax him for the moment; she's not storming off the boat, nor has she drawn her gun to force an explanation. Of course, he'd be forced to teleport, and then the pair could learn if he can actually avoid all the bullets in a clip, as wielded by the luckiest woman he knows. Not playing those odds. "Ten minutes?" Kurt's smile is lit, and the blue elf begins the 'cast off' functions. Lines in the back, lines in the front, and he sets the motors to reverse. The water is churned behind them with the gentle thrum of the engines as their slip is, well, slipped.. and once he's back enough, Kurt changes the tilt of the prop, and he steers the ship (under power) out towards the harbour. His tail, however, serves as the sommelier, and it reaches out to take the bottle, offering to pour another glass. "Do you trust me, liebling?" "Ten minutes," Domino confirms without any further hesitation. "After that I cannot be held accountable for my actions." Until then, she gets to see just how quickly he moves to make the most out of his deadline. Ten minutes is plenty of time in her eyes, but in the eyes of he who wishes for everything to be 'perfect?' She will place control back within her reach one way or another. As the boat sets off she remains front and center at the bow, lost as usual within her own thoughts. Thoughts that do not relate to her current situation in the slightest. The distractions are much more useful to her retention of sanity. A wine refill is accepted without another word, though a rather peculiar glance follows when the question is raised. "If I didn't then you'd probably be getting a call from your driver about now explaining how he wound up in the ER." She also knows how much he loves to play his pranks and games. It's something which she keeps reminding herself of while those seconds drift away upon the evening breeze. Ten minutes isn't anywhere near as long as he wants, as he needs.. and there's a bit of a worry line that appears upon the blue fuzzy face as he revs the engine as he gets clear of where the other boats are moored. One isn't allowed to go fast there.. but once the open water is reached, all bets are off. And this boat actually does have an engine on it! Kurt watches her there at the bow, and he has to take a deep breath, a calming action before he looks away, slightly starboard before he begins the turn; staying safe in the shipping lanes, after all. The response gains another smile, and as they get further and further away from land, he seems to calm a little more. "I would have to pay him extra, und things are a little tight, I will admit." His tones take a lightness, and he nods belowdecks, "At least I didn't make lobster tail. I couldn't bring myself to dump them in boiling water." And they're a little expensive. As the boat takes the water, there doesn't appear to be many boats.. there isn't much of anything out.. except stars. Soon enough, however, Kurt begins to cut the engine, slowing them down until there is no noise from aft.. and the bow breaks the caps all on its own. "We're 'there'.." They may be 'there,' but Domino's no closer to having any answers from all of this. Where is 'there,' and what does 'there' contain for them both? And if money is so tight, then "Why the limo?" Time's running out for the fuzzy blue guy. Dom's patience, right along with it. There's nothing out here..! Nothing but one boat, two overly-dressed mutants, and a galaxy full of stars. Now, with the shoreline being so far in the distance, she's even less in control than before. "You really enjoy this captive audience time we share, don't you," she says more as a statement than a question. With that thought hanging in the air she turns around and leans back with her elbows hooked along the top of the railing, looking back his way with a level stare. Time's running out and they both know it. What could this play possibly be? She knows what the odds are of being proposed to. Even with her billion to one success rate she's still willing to bet against it. "Are you sure you don't want dinner first, liebling?" Kurt's words come slowly as he saunters rather slowly up toward her, there at the bow. He's dressed in his finest; blue fuzzy elf in a black and white tuxedo. "I have a sound system for dancing." Though, Kurt does know he's pushing his luck. Finally, again, his hand drops into his pocket, and this time, beneath the fabric, it appears as if he's finally retrieving something. Reaching out with his other hand to take her hand, Kurt steps forward such that he's invading her personal space. "Come with me," he whispers.. and in the next second? *bamf* It's not belowdecks, however, that they land. No.. The pair are about 500 feet in the air, and they're standing on something of a construct. Kurt knows it's magical.. he can feel it. And, well.. he specifically asked for it. Invisible from below, and not when one is standing on it. From the look of it, it does span a good 20, 30 yards in a square.. but it's featureless. It is the moment they land, then, that Kurt does get upon a knee.. and grins.. those fangs appearing. "I've never done something like this, liebling.." "I'm sure," comes an entirely stoic response without hesitation. "I'm sure that you're very popular with people that enjoy dancing on boats to loud music." Pushing one's luck is generally ill-advised when dealing with the likes of Domino. When that blue hand disappears inside of a coat pocket again she has to stop herself from reaching out and giving the guy a full pat-down to see if there's anything extra lurking within. Then the approach. Then the voice. Then the-- "The Hell?!" This, here, is clearly not part of the boat. It doesn't even seem like it should be part of the proverbial tour except that the teleporter knew exactly where to find it! So now Amanda must have had a hand in all of this (or Vorpal, but it isn't purple in color...) And then he's dropping down to a knee. She's had enough. One soft leather-gloved hand promptly reaches out for a gathering of pointed elven ear, twisting it in that universally painful sort of way that's great for getting another's attention with a minimal amount of effort being invested. "Time's up. Start talking." Hey! This isn't supposed to happen. Except, well.. it's Dom, so there was a good chance that it is? Was? Kurt yelps in pain as she darts a hand out to grab hold of a blue, fuzzy ear, and twists.. hard. His head rotates around, leaning into the twist in a vain attempt to release some of the pressure. This leads to an even more unnatural position of his body, if that's at all possible! It apparently is, and he takes a deep breath in the middle of his noises of pain and bodily insult. "Okay.. okay.." Kurt starts again, "I was.." *bamf* It's the only way, truly, that he can reveal that which he's been planning for some time. It also gets him out from under the ear-twisting. Raising a three-fingered hand to rub at the injured part, Kurt takes a deep breath before turning about.. and pulls on something.. that is completely invisible. Unseen.. Slowly and deliberately, there appears... A Huey. UH-1.. with markings from the Honduran Air Force. With 2 rockets still in place. Miniguns.. and there.. standing before the aircraft, is a blue, tuxedo-wearing elf.. and a key in his hand.. dangling. "There was a mission in Honduras the other day, liebling. Und this was the second helo I tried to take. The first was shot out from around me." Literally. "I found one they were flying that hadn't shot its rockets at me." Bloody teleporters..! Dom saw this coming, but still. She's trying to make a point, here! At least it made her feel a little better. He had it coming. This whole invisibility act is kind of irritating, though also kinda interesting. More work, more thought put into it all. Though, put into what? There, beneath that invisible cloak, lies her answer. When dealing with a woman like Dom, it's just not possible for her to stay upset after catching sight of a mounted General Electric powered thirty caliber shredder. When it's not being aimed at her, anyway. "You crafty little son of a bitch," she mutters, though the smirk has already begun to take root. "I don't know whether to be upset that you didn't invite me or happy to have merited bringing home a souvenir. Honduras. That's a bit of a flight... "Did you pull this thing through Hell? I'm still not sure how you were able to teleport my bike out on the freeway, now this?" The way those blackened fingertips grace along the clustered array of barrels is almost delicate. Someone just got lucky. "This," Kurt begins slowly, "is a little big to bring through Hell. I flew it home.. when everyone else took the Blackbird. I did have to dodge those people who wanted it back, of course.." Glowing featureless yellow eyes watches Domino's approach, and he lets out a soft breath. "Alles ist vergeben, ja?" All is forgiven, yes? Not that he's really worried, mind. Not with that look upon her face. As she approaches, Kurt does hand the key over. "Amanda helped me.. und I took care of the maintance with the budget I have." Which.. is admittedly shoestring. "She flies. She has all her rounds, und I took one that still had her rockets." Just in case. The elf does pause, however, and that smile remains.. easy and now relaxed. "I honestly didn't think I could pull your bike through that day, liebling. It was as much a surprise to me as you. Us und the bike?" He shakes his head slowly, letting out a whistle, "I hadn't thought of doing it before then." Stepping away from the machine, Kurt's tail sways gently as he watches as she almost.. caresses the barrels, lightly touching her newest addition to her arsenal. "If you had come along, I would never have been able to give it to you as a gift." For as many elements that separate these two, there remains at least one point where they're very much alike. Domino's climbing into the chopper is right on par with how Kurt acts around a new trapeze set. On the landing gear, up inside of the fuselage, leaning forward into the cockpit, spinning around back on a heel and leaning out the other side, there's a peculiar sense of familiarity to the whole thing. "Been a long time since I've flown one of these... Some things a girl never forgets how to do." Maybe it's dated. Maybe it's hot, being stolen from a foreign military and all. Maybe it's not the best bird to grace the skies of the twenty-first century. But, it's hers. A little (alright, a lot) of matte black spraypaint, a thorough examination of all of its operational components, she'll be the envy of every merc and mercette in town! As for the bike? "Next time let's try to practice our limits before jumping into the field tests, alright?" Still, she can't stay mad at the guy. In tonight's game, the Huey trumps all. For all their differences, and some of that is philosophy, there is one thing that remains constant- Kurt's affection for her. There's just something about her that draws him, and he simply.. wants to see that smile. Even if she does get mad at him on occasion. One day she will learn that there is always something that lingers just around the corner, and it's something that she will like. Oh she of little faith. Watching as she climbs in with the grace of experience (and a short skirt, with all that entails!), his smile grows as hers does. He remains out on the 'ground', as it were, his hand falling into his pockets, his tail swaying gently. "If you want to take her for a spin, liebling," though.. his boat is still below, and dinner is still waiting for them. But.. this is something for her. The whole evening was meant for -her-; he'd deliberately set her up and took her out of her comfort zone just to.. put her back in. "There are times when trying something in the field is best for all involved." Kurt can't keep his eyes off of her, and finally, he exhales and scuffs a foot in prelude to his confession. "I don't know where to put this, you know.. that is why it's out here. Amanda helped. If you can think of a place, other than hell." Other than the fact that he couldn't take it? Better not give Azazel a military grade helo.. please and thank you! "We're not going to eat... are we." Anything worth having is worth fighting for. Full-on smiles from this albino can take some extra effort, though a persistent man shall often be rewarded. There's a musical chime coming from one of Domino's hands as she spins the keys around an index finger before they vanish into her palm, her grin failing to lose any of its staying power. "We're going to eat. I still need time to figure out where to park it." Things worth having can also come preequipped with military badges. Category:Log